


reservations started to pass

by danniperson



Series: lapse of reason [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cheating, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danniperson/pseuds/danniperson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve needs a little stress relief.  Tony knows what he needs better than he knows himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reservations started to pass

It was the weight of the world on his shoulders, a heavier burden by the day.  Sometimes Steve felt control slipping - the occasional urge to surrender, to let someone else bear it.  Other times, he needed to regain that loss, reminded of who and what he was, throwing himself fully into battles, sparring with teammates, or having at a punching bag, when there was no other option.  

 

Tony visited from time to time.  Tony watched him.  And Tony knew.

 

He poked and he prodded and enough was enough.  Steve was tired of hearing about the stick in his ass, how he needed to get laid, or drunk, how he needed to be more like one Mr. Tony Stark, letting loose.  And when it hit breaking point and he pushed Tony into the nearest wall, he thought about kissing him.  His eyes dropped to his mouth, he licked his lips because they tingled at the mere prospect.  But he blanched and pushed away.

 

Tony had a girlfriend, and that was - he couldn't think about men like that.   _It's okay now_ , he reminded himself.  All over the TV.  Same sex marriage legalized.  But it wasn't okay.  It had never been okay.  He wasn't supposed to look at men or think about them or want them.  Peggy was wonderful, everything a man could hope for. He could find a woman like her. A strong, beautiful woman.

 

"I'm sorry," he said stiffly, turning and striding out of the gym with his head held high.

 

The next time Tony came by, it was one of those  _other_ days.  It was after a fight - a successful one, at that.  Minimal casualties.  Minimal city damage.  The Avengers were loved, for now.  Steve was admired for his leadership skills.  But he didn't feel so worthy of the title.  The world was so consumed by the success, with how little they'd lost, that they didn't recognize what they had lost - people and things overlooked. Because what was twenty people to twenty hundred?  

 

And it was useless, worrying about things that couldn't be helped. He couldn't save everyone.

 

Tony followed him to his room and Steve stopped in the doorway, glancing back at him curiously, before walking in.  Tony closed the door.  He opened his mouth to speak, and Steve didn't have any fight left in him just yet.  He was too vulnerable.  Too tired.  

 

"Tony, I don't - " he began, voice raw.

 

Determination lit those brown eyes and Tony shoved him.  Steve stumbled back, blinking at him in surprise.  Tony smiled grimly and pushed him again until his legs hit the bed.  Steve swayed, but stayed on foot.  Tony stood there, studying him.  Looking at him like a machine that needed fixing.  Steve folded his arms over his chest, shifting to a taller stance.

 

It was a farce.  When Tony pushed him again, his arms dropped and he let himself fall onto the bed.  "What do you want, Tony?  Why are you doing this?"

 

"Romanoff said you needed help," Tony mentioned with a shrug.

 

"Romanoff doesn't know what she's talking about," Steve retorted.

 

"She says Wilson agrees. When I asked him, he told me to mind my own damn business," Tony chuckled.  

 

"Well, maybe you should listen."

 

Tony straddled his lap and Steve stilled.  Didn't dare to breathe.  Tony was warm.  Heavy.  He smelled like sweat and cologne.  Steve stared at the closed door.  He could feel the thud of his heart, felt it in his chest and in his head.  Heard it, loud and clear, above the sound of his own heavy breathing.  Tony cupped his face in his hands and stared at him, but Steve refused to meet his gaze.

 

"I know just what you need," he murmured.  It didn't sound flirty or seductive.  Sympathetic, maybe.  And then Tony was kissing him.  Steve gripped the end of the bed tightly.  Tony's mouth was soft and his goatee was scratchy, unpleasant yet not.  He reminded himself to breathe, didn't let his lips move.  Just let Tony kiss him, softly, over and over.  Let his lips part to Tony's questing tongue.  

 

Men weren't supposed to kiss other men.  Or touch them or look at them.  Steve hadn't had that problem in a long time, and Tony was just ruining everything.  Steve turned his head and closed his eyes, swallowing hard.  He meant to demand what Tony was doing, to pull away, but found he didn't have the will to do so.  His shoulders slumped and he bowed his head as Tony rubbed his arms soothingly.  

 

The door was closed and locked.  No one would see, no one would know.  Maybe he could be dreaming.  

 

When Tony urged him onto his front, Steve stopped thinking about it and went along.  He let Tony push his shirt up, bunched beneath his armpits, pulling down his jeans and his briefs past his knees.  He let out a sigh of relief when Tony started to massage him.  Natasha had suggested this.  Finding a good masseuse.  Yoga had also made the list, but she might have been joking.  Herbal tea...

 

His mind was drifting, blank and peaceful, letting Tony touch him.  And if that touch wandered too low, he'd stopped tensing up after the first few minutes.  When Tony spread his legs, Steve let him.  And when Tony pushed one finger, wet with saliva, inside of him, Steve hissed, but Tony was rubbing his lower back gently and he remained lax.  

 

"Do you have any lube?" Tony asked quietly.

 

"Umm...Lube?  No, I...," Steve said and shook his head.

 

"No wonder you're so worked up.  Masturbation would really do wonders..." Tony muttered.  "Tell me if it's too much."

 

That voice was tugging at something in his mind, pulling him down from that far away cloud, back down to Earth.  He was very still, more aware, when Tony removed his finger.  A chill swept down his spine and heat shot to his groin when he heard a wet pop and now two fingers were poking around down there.  Spreading wetness around his entrance, pressing teasingly all around before slipping inside.  Steve grunted, wincing at the burn.  

 

"Okay?" Tony kissed the top of his spine.

 

"Mmm...hmm."

 

It was like a massage only... _inside_.  Tony's fingers twisted and curled and rubbed all inside of him and it was...nice.  The discomfort was enough to keep him present and Steve didn't like that.  He planned his argument in his head and any moment now he'd speak up, would thank Tony for his thoughtfulness, but he really wasn't a homosexual and he didn't want this.

 

Brief relief when he moved away, but then Tony was sitting beside him.  Two fingers were still buried in his ass and Steve watched Tony's free hand unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling his manhood free and Steve just stared at it.  He was  _hard_ and Steve was suddenly aware of his own hardness and fought the instinct to rub against the mattress.  

 

"Needs to be wet," Tony murmured and Steve didn't fully understand, but when Tony tilted his hips forward and the head of his cock nudged his lips, his tongue slid out to wet his lips, brushing against it in turn and...he left his lips parted, let Tony push forward again until the tip was in his mouth.  Just laid there like that as Tony slid more and more of his cock into his mouth.  His tongue, his lips, would move and he would make them stop, wouldn't participate.  A man had put his penis in his mouth!  This was wrong.  This was dirty.  Tony was using him.  

 

Then Tony stroked his hair and Steve closed his eyes, sucking gently, allowing Tony to move his head, following his whispered instructions so he could go deeper, deeper.  He was in a trance.  The comforter was clutched in his fingers so hard his hand began to ache.  His hips rocked into the bed without his permission and he pulled his head back.

 

"It's okay.  You're okay, right?"

 

"Right."

 

He wanted this.  He could feel his cheeks, his neck, go pink and he turned his face into the mattress and loosened his fingers, pressing his palms flat.  Tony was shifting around.  Straddling him again.  His fingers were gone, but something else was brushing between his cheeks.  Against his hole.  Tony's hands rested beside his, chest hovering just over his back.  

 

"Should I...?"

 

"Yes," Steve said.  His voice was muffled so he nodded a little and turned to rest his cheek there.  Tony pushed one hand between him and the mattress, holding his stomach and pushed up, directing him to shift up a little.  Steve held his breath when the head caught on the rim, held it as Tony pressed inside.  It hurt.  It burned and Steve closed his eyes and swallowed.  

 

"Steve?"

 

He couldn't find his voice for a full minute and for that full minute, Tony waited.  Only an inch inside of him.  It hurt, but he was empty.  It hurt, but it was a good hurt.  Steve blinked at the wall and licked his lips.

 

"Do it."

 

It was a plea and he turned his face back into the bed.  Crossed his arms beneath him and rested his chin on them, looking up at the headboard as Tony slid deeper and deeper until Steve could feel his balls pressed against his backside.  Tony was  _inside_ of him.  He felt sick.  Tony's lips were on the back of his neck, his breath hot.  Steve pressed his elbows into the bed and rested his face in his hands.  Tony rubbed up and down his sides, lips moving along his neck and shoulders.  

 

He was open, spread wide by Tony's dick, and it felt like he was bursting, Tony too big for him and his bones were too big for his flesh.  It was too much.  All too much.  Everything had been too much and this was pushing it all over the edge.  

 

"I don't...Just...don't.  Stop, please."

 

Steve stayed where he was when Tony pulled out.  Waited, listening as he dressed.  Waited until he heard Tony shuffle across the room, opening the door and shutting it again.  He waited for his self control to return, but he was wrecked.  He felt worse than ever and he suspected he knew why.  With trembling limbs he pulled his briefs back on and he lay in bed, unable to sleep.

 

Two hours later, Tony knocked on his door.  "Are you okay?  I'm sorry, look, I just..."

 

Steve tossed the blankets aside and deftly pulled his underwear off, rolling over onto his hands and knees.  Tony walked over beside him and Steve was the one to reach out, to tug his pajama bottoms down.  He was soft, for now, and Steve paused.  He watched while Tony toyed with himself, one hand, the other on Steve, in his hair, his neck, his back.  When he was hard, he let his hand fall aside, and Steve was the one to lean forward, to take Tony into his mouth.  He sucked a little, rubbed his tongue all around it, then pulled off with a noisy pop.  Steve's eyes flickered up to Tony's face, to his furrowed brows.

 

It was okay if it hurt, he wanted to say.  Wanted to reassure Tony.  But he couldn't.  It didn't matter.  Tony understood anyway.  He got back into bed and pushed back inside and it hurt more now.  Steve grunted at the pain, but pushed back, telling Tony in the only way he could what he needed.  So Tony grasped his hips and  _fucked_ him.  There was no easing into it, just thrusting until he came and when he was done, he rolled Steve onto his back and jerked him off, his hand as fast and firm as his hips had been.  And when Steve came, it was hard.  It swept through him like a flood and he was drowning in it.  A flood of pleasure that wiped away all thought and all worries, sweeping it all away and cleansing him.  One arm flopped across his face when he realized Tony was watching him, but beyond that small bother found that it didn't matter much.  

 

Tony found his way to the bathroom, wetting a rag and cleaning him off.  His stomach, his groin, between his legs and Steve's jaw clenched.  He was sore down there and just remembering what he'd done, what he'd let Tony do...

 

The ghost of a kiss and Tony was gone.  Steve still couldn't sleep, but he didn't think, either.

 


End file.
